


Last Knights of the Silver Hand

by Viscount_Vampyre



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 15:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscount_Vampyre/pseuds/Viscount_Vampyre
Summary: Fleeing Lordaeron, and the wrath of the endless Scourge a crew under command of Lady Jaina Proudmoore becomes separated from the rest of the Alliance flotilla on their way to the forgotten lands of Kalimdor. As they make landfall it becomes apparent that survival is not going to be easy... Pilot chapter R&R if you please!





	Last Knights of the Silver Hand

Escaping the Plague and the Scourge a crew under command of Lady Jaina Proudmoore becomes separated from the rest of the Alliance flotilla on their way to Kalimdor. Fulfilling their mission might not be their first priority when simply trying to survive.

Last Knights of the Silver Hand

-Pilot-

Storms whipped and whirled, smashing wave after wave upon the deck of the carrack _Grim Warrior_.

The tossing and turning of the ocean around them made the sailors quail and reach for purchase along the rigging and the edges of the rails.

“We should have stayed at our posts!” Sir Laudren cried, “This storm is surely our retribution from the gods!”

Captain Fournival, a merchant marine and seasoned seadog, shook his head as he stood redoubtable to the side of the ship’s wheel. He roared over the storm in response, “Lady Jaina charged us with maintaining our course! And that is what I intend to do my lord!”

The paladin Laudren grit his teeth and held to the aft-mast tightly.

The captain laughed, “If orders damn a man, then we are indeed consigned! But I’ve weathered storm far worse than this mere squall!” he boasted with a wild smile

Sailors close to him yelled triumphantly as they continued holding down the sails and rigging.

“Keep us steady my boy!” he ordered to the helmsman.

The youth nodded and whipped his soaked hair off his eyes as he narrowed them in the gloom. “Aye, aye!” he shouted.

Below deck the passengers tossed to and fro.

Knights and footmen unused to the motion of the seas vomited and paled with sickness.

The horses kept in their stalls neighed and whinnied madly, loudly hitting their feet against the sides and doors as their grooms did their best to try and assuage the poor creatures.

It was near midday when the storm hit.

But when it finally broke the men couldn’t tell what time it now was, the sky above them was dark and the sun had passed the horizon.

Defaulting the ship at ‘nine-bells’ Captain Fournival maintained a sombre watch over his deck.

The paladin Sir Laudren wiped his wet brow and stepped beside him.

“Captain… surely this is folly, we’ve been separated from the flotilla for a week now…”

A stern look of his eyes from Fournival made the knight quiet.

He grumbled and averted his eyes before changing the subject.

“We’re close to landfall, yes?”

The captain accepted that Sir Laudren was merely stressed and as afraid as any man, and he had to respect that for a land-locked knight, he was holding up surprisingly well.

Exhaling, Fournival nodded, “Aye… we’ve been near three months at sea…”

Looking away from the knight he waved down the deck to his second in command.

“Lieutenant!”

The grizzled man nodded, and responded “Aye sir?”

Waving him to come to the quarterdeck he turned back to Sir Laudren, “From what little we know of this ‘forgotten land’ we should be spotting it any day now.”

The lieutenant arrived to the aft-castle and saluted, “Yes sir?”

Captain Fournival nodded, “You have command. I’m stepping below with Laudren and the other knights.”

Touching his forehead the lieutenant saluted again, “Aye, very good sir.”

“Get us back in order and the sails out, we need to take advantage of this wind now and pick up the speed we’ve lost.”

Nodding the man set to as soon as Fournival and Laudren stepped down below deck.

Things were getting desperate for the crew indeed. When they had left Lordaeron they had done so under such haste that the ship was not properly filled with provisions.

They were running low on water, dried meat, biscuits, and oats for their gruel.

Fishing off the sides of the vessel was helping them subsist, but the rationing was beginning to grate on the men.

After becoming separated from the rest of the flotilla the moral of the beleaguered men was hanging by a thread.

When they reached the captain’s cabin they were joined by a few of the other knights aboard and Fournival bid them welcome as they held a meeting.

Sending one of the ships’ runners to the deck with the resident astronomer the boy returned and helped Captain Fournival plot a tenuous course along the edge of his incomplete map.

Making three lines he pointed and began to explain to the knights.

“As you can see this is the potential area we are dealing with… These waters are becoming more and more foreign to me… and the stars too are becoming unreliable. But…”

He exhaled steadily and eyed the men around him.

“I am sure that we’re reaching the end of the sea.”

The men voiced several questions and concerns and the captain did his best to address them.

But it was an uneasy night to say the least.

…

When morning finally broke the exhausted crew was relieved by a shift change.

A paltry attempt at a moral boost was made by one of the senior knights, ‘Ten crowns to the first man who spotted land.’

It didn’t last and by midday the men were slipping into hopelessness.

Until they heard and saw something high in the sky…

A far echoing cry soared above the moaning of the wind across the waves and the men began crying in jubilation.

_A bird…_

They yelled and cheered waving to the high up beast as if it were an angel.

“If we’re seeing a bird then we’re only miles away!” one of the men cried.

The tension became palpable as the men continued their work. And they were nearing dusk when it came…

The sweetest news they could possibly hear.

From the foremast’s crow’s-nest the sentry cupped his hands around his mouth and cried; _“LAND-HO!”_

The men all ran to the bow of the ship for a sight of their goal, and sure enough at the farthest edge of their sight a few flecks of land began to rise out above the rolling waves.

To celebrate the captain allowed for music to be played and gave the men each a small dash of wine from his own stores.

They all looked over the edge of the rail with smiles as broad as their swords, slapping and congratulating one another for living to see solid ground once more.

…

Yet what cruelty…

By the time that they were close enough to really study the coastline it was night and they couldn’t see it anymore.

Sleeping when land was so close proved to be one of the hardest tests of all.

The crew was chomping at the bit to be let off their wooden prison and some men had to be pulled back from the rail as they madly screamed and attempted to throw themselves into the crystal waters of the surf.

These few overzealous men were restrained and the rest of the men maintained their vigil…

Yet like the morning after the Winter solstice the men were like children, eager to claim their prize of solid ground, fertile vegetation, and cool fresh water.

Mist hung over head ever so lightly, and some men remarked that they had passed the edge of the world, into a land of magic and mystery…

Captain Fournival stood on the deck and directed his men as they elected a party to take one of the long boats and go ashore.

‘A land of magic and mystery… I fear they’re right…’

…


End file.
